Annie, Your Annie
by Forget.Me.In.Paradise
Summary: One shot. Post-Mockingjay. After Finnick's death, Annie writes a series of letters to him, believing he will get them. She writes about everything, from the birth of their son to her final days. Character-death. R&R!


**~Annie, Your Annie~**

**A/N- Bonjour, tous la monde! (Translation: Hello, everybody!) It's MyDarlingAngelOfHell here, as you probably know. This is my first Hunger Games fic, so I would like to thank Megan and Julian, my BetaReaders. Thank you guys, SO MUCH. Everyone, listen to My Immortal by Evanescence while reading this! It's purr-fect for this. Enjoy!**

Dear Finnick,

Plutarch told me you're dead. He says wolf mutts killed you. I don't believe him. Nope. Not at all. I told him that you'll come back soon because you love me.

I remember what you told me before you left. You smiled sadly, and said, "Annie, dear. If I don't come back, if I die, then please try to accept it, all right? For my sake?"

But then why can't I accept it? I'm not sure about you, Finnick, but it hurts when I'm not with you. Every time I think that maybe, just maybe, Plutarch is right, it hurts even more. You're not dead, Finnick. I don't care what anyone says. They think I'm mad. They all do. They say you'll never come back. But you will. Right? Right?

Finnick, why won't you answer me?

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

I'm pregnant. I found out today, sweetie. After I heard the news, I burst into tears of joy. I feel like the happiest woman in the world, now. The last time I was this happy was when we exchanged our wedding vows. I hope the baby will be born by the time you'll come back.

The other day, I was rummaging through old drawers and I found a picture of you. It was taken after the day you came out of the arena of the 65th Hunger Games. You looked much younger and less weary in this picture. Your mouth smiled, but your eyes didn't. They were full of sadness and torture. Did I look like that after I came out of the arena?

It's been two weeks since you left. When are you coming back?

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

They brought your body back. It was horrible. Your clothes were ripped, and your body was scarred beyond repair. The worst part? There was no head, Finnick. Just the bloody stump of your neck.

I don't think I have ever wanted to die so much in my life.

I'm being forced to accept your death. Isn't this what you wanted all along? For me to accept it? Well, I hope you're happy now.

I miss seeing you. I miss your eyes, your laugh and your smile. I miss the way you ran your hands through my hair, and the way you caressed my cheek. I miss how you whispered sweet words into my ear.

I miss your love.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

Our son finally came! Yes, Finnick, it's a boy. He looks exactly like you. He looks exactly like you: your sea green eyes, your brown hair, he has it all. When I first held him in my arms, I cried tears of joy. When I saw you in his appearance, I cried even harder. You weren't entirely gone, I had thought. I was holding a piece of you. And I was never going to let go.

Of course, then came the problem of naming the child. Katniss and Peeta, who are now engaged, suggested to name him Finnick Jr., after you. Haymitch demanded I call you Carson. Johanna, bless her soul, decided on "Shmuck".

But I knew the perfect name. Our son was to be called Ocean. Ocean Finnick Odair.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

Katniss and Peeta got married today, after being engaged for practically three years. Her mother wanted them to wait until they were old enough, but I knew they wanted to speed right into it. While I was sitting in the front row to watch them exchange their vows, I was reminded of our wedding. I turned to tell you this, but you weren't there. I remembered your death all over again, and tears silently poured down my cheeks. Ocean saw his mom cry in front of him for the first time.

Speaking of which, Ocean is two years old and a bouncing, bubbly toddler now. He can speak full sentences now, too. He hasn't had the chance to say "dada" yet, unfortunately.

I recently turned 27. We didn't have that big of a celebration, just invited Katniss and her family, Haymitch, Plutarch, and Johanna for dinner. I didn't ask for anything, but Peeta had made this marvelous white velvet cake with butter cream frosting. It was blue and resembled a dolphin. An actual life-sized dolphin. Ocean plunged his hands right into his cake with enthusiasm. You would have laughed so hard.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

People keep asking me why I write these letters to you even though you're dead. As if I don't know that. These letters are going to reach you whether you're dead or alive. I don't care how long it takes, but you will read them wherever you are.

People I meet on the street have been trying to avoid me, Finnick. Lately, I haven't been finishing anything at all. I leave my sentences hanging, my housework unfinished, and my poems undone. Sometimes I leave Ocean's lunch forgotten. Others that encounter me think I'm madder than usual. I haven't any clue why I've been acting this way at all. If you were here, you would know what to do. You always did.

Ocean needs help on his homework. I must go help him.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

I saw you today. I was standing at the seashore in a white dress. You were there too, only a few yards in front of me with arms wide open. And your looks hadn't even changed a bit.

I ran into your arms and hugged you fiercely. "I missed you," I whispered. When I finally let go, you started to fade away. You transformed into mist and were gone on a second. All that was left of you was a sea breeze.

That was when I woke up, shaking and sweaty.

Why did you leave me again, Finnick? You go so fast that I just can't keep up with your speed. I once heard a saying that said, "Never say goodbye, because you'll see that person again."

I refuse to say goodbye.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

I live alone now. Ocean's moved out of the house with his _wife_. Yes, he's gotten married, can you believe it? With Katniss's daughter, Primrose Mellark. I really don't see how it worked with him living in District 4 and Primrose living in 12, but as long as he's happy, I'll support anything he does. Ocean promised he'd visit during weekends, so I'm not too worried.

There's not much to do around the house, so I've taken up jewelry making. It's not much of a useful hobby, but Effie Trinket always looks forward to my new pieces. Recently, I sold her a pair of earrings for a few coins, so she's been obsessed ever since.

My blond hair is slowly turning into gray. I just keep it in a bun, but I keep trying to remind myself to dye it. Actually, I'm not sure whether I should or not, but that's not very important.

Last time I saw Prim, there was a very slight bulge in her stomach. I hope we get to become grandparents.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

Congratulations, dear. You are a grandfather now. Well, you've actually been one for a year. Twelve months ago, Prim gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. The first time Ocean held him, I saw a real tear in his eye. They named him Finnick Jr., or just Finnick. After the grandfather he never knew.

President (or rather, ex-President) Paylor stepped down from office last week. She says she's getting too old and weak to run the country. Well, it was about time. Can you believe how many terms she was re-elected for? _8 terms_. People really liked her, Finnick. Now that she's not President, another man named Artur Hellish has become the leader of Panem. He's very large and jovial, about forty-five years old. I have a feeling he's going to make a very good President.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

I visited the sea today by myself. There was no one else on the beach, so I sat down on a large, flat rock and just thought. I thought about everything, including Ocean and his family, jewelry, what to have for dinner, and of course, you. You remained on my mind longer than anyone or anything else. I tried to remember everything about you: how you looked like when you laughed, the way you'd always ruffle through your hair… how you helped me through my nightmares, how you had that gleam in your eye every time you visited the sea.

I'd pay anything to see that again.

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

Ocean and his family visited me today. We had a very fun time talking and playing with his new daughter, Macie. But every fifteen minutes, Ocean asked me to lie down. "Don't strain yourself," he said. At first, I didn't want to. Later, though, I felt like I did need to lie down. Since then, I've always been lying down. Not only that, but I've been experiencing headaches, nausea, and unconsciousness from time to time. What's wrong with me?

Love, Annie. Your Annie.

* * *

Dear Finnick,

I am dying.

I've had a fever for two weeks, and it's definitely not getting better. If anything, it's getting worse. Two days ago, The doctor told me that I only have a few days left. I feel that these are my last minutes.

My breath is shallow, and it's hard to see. The only strength I have left is in my hands, with which I write these letters. Ocean is sitting next to me, asleep. He was crying silently the entire day while holding my hand. His family is in the other room, asleep. I'm losing strength in my hand, so this letter shall end soon. But there is one last thing I want to tell you.

I love you.

Love, Annie. Your-

* * *

_"I missed you."_

_"I know."_

_"Did you get my letters?"_

_"Of course I did, sweetheart. I love you so much."_

_"I know."_

**A/N- Thank you guys so much for reading. Please review and read my other stories!**


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